


What Made You Wanna Live This Kind of Life?

by momo0231



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: And slight mentions of cheating because Fidds is still with his wife, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Fidds needs a hug, M/M, Rating mature for blood and bill being a creepy shit, bill traumatizing fidds with his own blood and organs, billford is a thing in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momo0231/pseuds/momo0231
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiddleford’s eyes snapped open and he pulled away from Stanford.</p>
<p>“What…” His sentence died on his lips when he saw Stanford’s arms halfway in his chest. His eyes were a dull yellow and he looked almost curious.</p>
<p>“Wow! You humans sure don’t want anything to happen to the meat sacks you call organs!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Made You Wanna Live This Kind of Life?

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Ain't No Rest For the Wicked by Cage the Elephant
> 
> Warning, there is descriptions of blood and organs and what not and wow Bill got really weird really quickly in this fic
> 
> But at least there are cuddles in the beginning?

Fiddleford stepped out of the elevator, looking intently at the clipboard in front of him. He saw Stanford working at his desk from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t want to acknowledge him if he was acting strange again.

He hated those moments, but as he sat down at his own desk, the author stood up and smiled at him, the cute smile that he always wore when he was proud of himself. It was the one that made the engineer fall head over heels for Stanford Pines.

“Good morning, Fiddleford.” The author pressed a soft kiss to the top of the said man’s head, which caused him to smile and put down his clipboard and pen.

Fiddleford turned to meet his partner, frowning a little when he saw how dirty his hair was and the dark bags under his eyes. “When was the last time you slept?

Stanford had the decency to look guilty. “Two days ago.” He mumbled and the engineer sighed before standing up and directing the author towards the cot they had set up downstairs for cat naps.

He pulled Stanford down in the bed with him. It was a tiny bed, but all the more reason to curl up close together. Stanford rested his head under Fiddleford’s chin, while Fiddleford started to idly play with the hair at the nape of Stanford’s neck.

The engineer listened to his partner’s breathing level off before he fell asleep. It wasn’t often that he could convince Stanford to sleep, but when he did he always passed out for long periods of times.

Fiddleford closed his eyes and even though he had woken up only a few hours ago and had coffee, he felt himself start to drift off.

He would have, anyway, if he hadn’t felt Stanford shift in front of him and then feel a twinge at his chest. The twinge of discomfort quickly bloomed into agonizing pain. Fiddleford’s eyes snapped open and he pulled away from Stanford.

“What…” His sentence died on his lips when he saw Stanford’s arms halfway in his chest. His eyes were a dull yellow and he looked almost curious.

“Wow! You humans sure don’t want anything to happen to the meat sacks you call organs!” A loud, high pitched, nasally voice said, but it was Stanford’s mouth that was moving. If Fiddleford could think about moving his hands he would have brought them to his ears. The voice was coming from Stanford, somehow. How did that work? Was he a shapeshifter?

Fiddleford gripped his partner’s arms, but he couldn’t bring himself to push him away, still not believing what was happening. “Stan-” Fiddleford let out a cry when a sickening crack filled the air.

“Should I break all your ribs or just the ones that are in front of what I want?” Stanford asked, leaning his head into his hand, holding his cheek.

The engineer gasped, unable to speak from the nausea that he was feeling. He wanted to puke and push Stanford away but the hand was holding him in place. “All of them it is!” The voice cried and another crack filled the air.

Fiddleford closed his eyes tightly as he listened to each snap that filled the air. Each one caused a sharp agonizing pain course through his veins before a dull ache came over his body.

Stanford pulled the bones out one by one, leaving in a pile on the floor. He examined his hand which was coated with blood and pieces of bone and flesh. He curled his six fingers into a fist before extending it flat again. Fiddleford felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. The author brought his hand closer to his mouth and licking a stripe from his wrist, up his open palm and to the tip of his index finger.

“Human blood always tastes so weird! You guys have metal in your blood; do you guys realize how _weird_ that is?” Fiddleford felt his blood drain from his face, probably going right out the hole that was in his chest. Stanford plunged his hand back into his chest, feeling around for a moment before wrapping his hand around something. Something that made the engineer’s breathing quicken.

Stanford tugged and Fiddleford lost his breath. The author had an almost curious look on his face as he looked up at the taller man’s face. “It’s some interesting thoughts running through this guy’s brain, you should hear them! He has such weird emotions around you. His heart beats faster and his stomach gets upset around you. His mind says that it’s love but how can you love someone that makes you feel like _this_?”

Fiddleford let out a choked cry before it was cut off and he doubled over in pain. Stanford was holding a mass of pink. “Do you know how lungs work? You didn’t take biology, not much anyway.” Stanford brought the lung closer to his face as the engineer gurgled and tasted metal in his mouth. “An exchange of gases to keep you guys alive, on two small sacks of flesh and valves.”

The engineer might have been interested in this, had Stanford not been holding the lung right in front of his face.

Blood started to fill in his mouth and he tried to spit it out of his mouth but it just kept filling back up. The edges of his vision were turning black, but he still wasn’t passing out.

Fiddleford wished that he would, just let his suffering end.

Stanford crawled forward so that he was in Fiddleford’s lap, the smile suddenly turning into a frown as he glared at him. “You stay away from Stanford Pines. I have plans that are bigger than anything you can imagine, and the more you stick around the more you interfere.” The author plunged his arm into the taller man’s chest again after dropping the lung on the ground and grabbed hold of the real organ he wanted and pulled back.

Fiddleford couldn’t even differentiate the pain anymore, and he choked when he saw the slowly beating heart in Stanford’s six fingered grip. “Leave, or else worse things will happen to you!”

The engineer saw the darkness around the edges of his vision slowly start to overcome everything. The last thing he saw was Stanford above him, taking a bite into the heart that was in his hands.

Fiddleford jerked awake, looking around wildly and found himself on the cot in the basement. His shaking hands flew to his chest, expecting to find a hole. He unbuttoned his shirt, looking for something that would give him evidence to it but nothing.

A dream, but it was so realistic.

Stanford stirred next to him and Fiddleford remembered what the Stanford in his dream said to him before he woke up. Usually he wouldn’t listen to something like that, but he was still He had to leave, right now.

“I gotta go home, my wife needs me ta look after Tate. I’m sorry.” Why was he saying sorry? Fiddleford frowned, but he shook his head. The engineer scrambled to his feet, all but pushing Stanford out of the bed.

Fiddleford was gone before Stanford could even fully wake up, but he didn’t quite feel like he was alone either.


End file.
